


Torchwood Christmas Special

by celedan



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Caring Jack, Christmas, Christmas Blues, Christmas Fluff, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not talking about things, Sick Ianto Jones, angsty Ianto, kinda depressing at first, of course, relationship misunderstandings, slight Gwen Bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 03:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celedan/pseuds/celedan
Summary: Ianto Jones really experiences the Christmas Blues when he gets stuck with a nasty cold, hurts his arm, and everybody (except Owen) is kinda cheery around him. But what is worse, he so badly wants to spend Christmas with Jack. But they don't do this, right? Not with their dysfunctional, unorthodox thing they have going on between them... Or do they?





	Torchwood Christmas Special

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Just Another Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9106132) by [gmariam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam). 



> This story is for Nadine who ventured into London to get Keep-John-In-The-Jungle batches from TeamBarrowman for me and a friend of hers, and then send them to Germany. Thank you so much!

The middle of December wasn't a particularly good time of the year for Ianto Jones thanks to a nasty cold that had him in its clutches. And if that wasn't bad enough, he felt so rotten, and apparently looked like it, that Jack – in league with bloody Owen Harper – had send him home. Evidently, not even Owen's extensive stash of Earth and alien medicine was any help to instantly cure a simple frigging cold, so that he was doomed to sit it out, but – O-tone doctor Harper – please at home so that he wouldn't infect the others, ta. He wouldn't put it past Owen that Torchwood's medical officer simply didn't  _ want _ to help him out of spite. When confronted with his teammates getting seriously hurt, Owen was a caring, dutiful, and fierce doctor. The rest of the time, he was simply a prat. 

He'd stiffly ignored the doctor's parting shot – something along the lines of enjoying Jack nursing him back to health – before Ianto had resigned himself to his fate, and left the Hub. Surely, there had to have been some biting innuendo implied in that, but since Ianto had, for one, not really listened, and second, actually felt so bad he thought that his brain had turned to mush and was therefore unable to process anything too complicated being said to him, he let it go without an equally as cutting reply.

Shuffling over to his car in the underground garage, he didn't even come close to opening the door before he heard pounding footsteps on the concrete echoing in the vast space that could only belong to one person.

Questioningly, he looked up when Jack came to a skidding halt next to him.

With gentle force, the Captain relieved Ianto of his car keys. “Come on,” he smiled. “I'll take you home.”

“I'm fine,” Ianto replied stubbornly simply on principle.

Jack just snorted at that, and rolled his eyes fondly, but gently shoved Ianto away from the driver's door.

Sighing in defeat, Ianto trudged around the car to get in at the passenger side. Jack was right, he would never admit to how sick he really felt, so, despite his battered pride of being considered too fragile to work, he was actually quite grateful that Jack manhandled him into going home, and even took it upon himself to accompany him lest he manage to wrap his car around the next lamp post in his weakened, unconcentrated state.

Back at Ianto's flat, Jack steered him straightly into his bedroom, and started stripping him without even one hint of a salacious wink. Did he really look that bad?

“I'm not dying, Jack,” he mumbled, annoyed that Jack thought he was so sick that he had to treat him like a raw egg, and go all virtuous on him.

Jack raised an eyebrow at the comment. “Only being considerate here.” Now, he did indeed wink. “And rolling your eyes about my antics will only worsen your headache, my sweet.”

Ianto had indeed to withstand the temptation to roll his eyes. Therefore, he really didn't because he was much too surprised that Jack had noticed how fiercely his head hurt. So, he only gave a simple nod, and let himself be manhandled into bed after Jack had stripped him down to his boxers, and shoved a soft, washed-out T-shirt over his head – one of Jack's that had found its way into his wardrobe some time ago. To his surprise, Jack caringly tucked him in, tightly wrapping the blanket around Ianto to make sure that no cold air could slip in.

“And here we go.”

Questioningly, Ianto looked up when the mattress dipped. He raised a suspicious eyebrow – his pounding head didn't thank him for it – as he spotted a bottle in Jack's hand. 

“What's that?” he asked warily.

“Cough syrup,” the Captain replied simply while he poured some of the viscous, hazardous looking stuff into the lid for measuring. “Open up,” he said with a bright smile that was probably intended to reassure Ianto. 

It wasn't very convincing.

“You're a shitty nurse,” he groused. “And is that Owen's stuff?”

“No, I forced Owen to write a prescription though, and send Gwen to get it at the chemist's.” Jack shrugged. “Now swallow that damn syrup.” 

“Never thought I would make a fuss about swallowing something viscous, did ya,” he grumbled – only to have the last word on principle, mind, although in reality he was amazed that Jack had been so considerate to get something for him –, but obediently took the medicine from the heartily laughing man, eyeing it warily since it undoubtly was one of the nastier tasting brands Owen had prescribed just to bug Ianto. 

Pulling a face, he forced the indeed disgusting tasting stuff down his throat, and handed the lid back to Jack in utter disdain.

“Apropos,” Jack said suddenly very seriously. “I once read something interesting in a magazine.”

Ianto sniffled under the blanket he'd pulled up almost over his head, and so, Jack couldn't see his eye roll which the younger man once more regretted instantly but couldn't seem to help himself. “I fear to imagine, Sir,” he mumbled, trying to suppress a coughing fit.

He felt the mattress dip some more as Jack leaned over him, and in the next second, he felt Jack's fingers gently carding through his dishevelled hair. The gentleness of the gesture made Ianto forget his irritation immediately.

He shivered as suddenly, Jack's warm breath caressed his ear. 

“I read that swallowing ejaculate helps against a sore throat.”

“You're making that up!” Ianto croaked, glaring at Jack from over his shoulder.

“No, really. If you want, I can get Owen to confirm it.”

“I'm not sure, despite calling himself a doctor, that that's something he would know,” Ianto deadpanned. “And I'm definitely sure that this is something I never ever want to ask him.”

“No matter. I'm only concerned for your well-being.”

Ianto snorted at Jack's innocent expression which ended in a coughing fit. When he recovered, he felt the steady, reassuring presence of Jack's warm hand on his heaving back. 

“I really am,” Jack murmured when suddenly, Ianto was jostled around somewhat by Jack moving behind him, and for a moment, cool air hit his back before the blanket fell around him again, Jack spooning against his back. He sighed in bliss when Jack's furnace of a body pressed against his shivering frame. Distractedly, he wondered how Jack had stripped so fast, but at the forefront of his squishy mind was rather instant regret that he had doubted Jack's concern for him. He reached down to cling to Jack's arms that were wrapped around his middle tightly. “I know,” he murmured, and weakly tugged at Jack's arms to get him to embrace him even tighter.

Jack took the silent apology for what it was, and gladly complied with Ianto's need to have him closer.

“Try to sleep a little,” Jack mumbled into his neck, pressing a kiss onto Ianto's nape that was heartbreaking in its gentleness.

“What about you?” he mumbled sleepily, feeling the sleepy properties of the medicine taking effect slowly.

“I'll act as your hot water bottle in the meantime, and get to enjoy holding you,” Jack simply explained with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Although Ianto had nothing to object to this plan, his sense of obligation reared its ugly head. He tried to look over his shoulder futilely. “You can't!” he protested hoarsely. “You can't stay with me just because I have a silly cold!” He coughed weakly. “It's only noon. What about the Rift!”

Jack shushed him by also wrapping his legs around the younger man, immobilising him, and nuzzling the side of his neck. “Shh,” he made. “It doesn't matter if you caught a life-threatening alien virus or if you've come down with a simple cold; you're suffering, and that's something I won't stand for.”

Ianto pressed his lips together, and didn't dare reply to that heartfelt declaration. Every time he thought Jack couldn't surprise him any more, he went and did or said things like that just now. Feeling a little emotional, probably because of the stupid cough syrup running through his system, he swallowed heavily, and nodded wordlessly. 

Safe in the knowledge that Jack would indeed stay with him to watch over him, Ianto succumbed to sleep.

 

When he blinked his gritty eyes open again, he marvelled at the fact that it was becoming dark outside already. He'd slept for hours!

He felt a little better though, his headache had abated considerably even if every muscle in his body was still sore, as was his throat, and he felt as weak as a new-born kitten. But all of his plights paled against the one fact that he felt a familiar presence pressed against his back, Jack's warmth and smell encompassing him like a comforting blanket.

“Feeling better?”

Ianto sighed in contentment as Jack's warm breath caressed the side of his face, and he buried deeper into the embrace. Despite his weakened state, he seldomly got to enjoy Jack's presence like that to the fullest. In the nights, yes, but not on an average afternoon. None of them had the luxury to simply take this time together, to call it an early day when they felt like it. Not in their line of job. 

So, having Jack all to himself right now, unhurried by any pressing save-the-world matters was pure bliss. Being sick in bed had to have its advantages after all.

He made a mewling noise of protest when Jack started getting restless behind him, and even started getting up.

“You should eat something,” Jack simply declared. “And a hot bath would do you some good as well.”

Ianto couldn't really argue with that logic although right at the moment, he didn't want to get out of bed.

“You wanna eat first or take a bath?”

“Hmm, eat,” he decided. If he took a muscle-soothing bath first, he'd probably be too tired afterwards to eat anything.

“Okay. You stay here, I'll whip something up for you.” And with that, Jack left the bed for good.

Ianto sighed. “Don't have much in.”

“I'll think of something, don't worry,” Jack assured, and left the room.

Ianto would have loved nothing more than to accompany Jack, and watch him dash around his kitchen like a mad whirlwind, watching him being all domestic for once, but he actually felt too weak to get up.

Anticipating Jack's return, he closed his eyes again for a little while.

 

A delicious smell roused him some time later. Curiously, he peeked over the edge of the blanket. Jack had just come into the room, and set at tray on the bedside table.

“Dinner!” the Captain announced, and climbed back into bed with Ianto, still in just his underwear – he must have cooked like that, pity that Ianto had missed the sight. 

Groggily, Ianto sat up, and allowed Jack to place the tray with a bowl of soup onto his lap.

“You wanna any help?”

“No, thanks,” he snapped more testily than intended. “I'm fine on my own.”

Jack only chuckled at his display of overly proud behaviour.

But Ianto had to admit, the hot soup – wherever Jack had gotten the ingredients from, surely not from Ianto's fridge or pantry – did him a world of good. So good in fact that he didn't even needle Jack if he had bothered Ianto's neighbours for any ingredients. The only thing he felt was contentment and happiness at Jack's gesture.

“Now that hot bath, or are you tired?” Jack asked some time after Ianto had finished his meal.

“If you come with me, and keep me from drowning, then I'm surely up for a nice bath.”

The radiant grin on Jack's face made him feel even better.

Together, they managed to get Ianto into the bathroom, and then into the tub without breaking any legs or necks. And soon, he relaxed in the hot water, propped up against Jack's body.

“Could get used to this,” he mumbled, completely relaxed, and laid his head back on to Jack's shoulder while the older man gently started caressing his arms and upper body with a soaped wash cloth. An amused chuckle sounded in his ear, but Jack didn't give an answer otherwise.

 

Ianto was relieved that he felt better the next morning. He didn't feel so weak any longer, and his throat wasn't sore any more (and he would never, ever admit to a living soul  _ why _ that was!).

In fact, he felt so good that he wanted to accompany Jack who had to leave all of a sudden when Tosh rang, asking for his help with a Rift retrieval, informing him they would pick him up in a few minutes at Ianto's. 

The only comment Jack gave to Ianto's request was an impassively raised eyebrow, and then he was out the door.

Huffing, Ianto flung himself back into the pillows like a stroppy toddler. 

But after a few minutes of sulking, he sat up, and fished for his earpiece that Jack had put into one of the bedside drawers yesterday.

Giving a self-satisfied grunt, Ianto switched it on, and started listening in on his colleagues' conversation. 

Turned out Gwen was late again, but was sorely needed at the site of the retrieval as it soon became clear that it wasn't just a piece of space junk that had come through the Rift but a couple of grumpy aliens.

“Bugger it,” Ianto grumbled, and flew from the bed to get dressed. He really felt better, so he didn't see why he couldn't work. Being two team members down could prove fatal for his colleagues after all.

When he arrived at his car downstairs, he was slightly out of breath, but ignored this stubbornly in favour of listening in to the mayhem that seemed to be dealing with the aliens. He better hurry.

Fortunately, it wasn't far (and thank God Tosh had shouted into the phone rather loudly so that Ianto had been able to understand her giving Jack the address), and within a few minutes, Ianto had arrived. He parked his car next to the SUV, and dashed out. 

The others were busily rounding up a few pissed off looking aliens snarling and growling at them in a shady looking abandoned house. The scene was chaotic, the building difficult to get control over with its multiple storeys and rooms so that they had a hard time keeping track of the aliens. There could be nasty surprises lurching around every corner.

The first one he encountered was Tosh on the ground floor. She stared at him with wide eyes when she spotted him, but never lowered her weapon or her torch, nor did she cry out in surprise about his turning up. They simply fell into step like the well oiled machine the team was.

Suddenly, a growling sounded to her left, and she spun around, pointing her gun in the direction of the snarling alien that suddenly had turned around the corner. Just as Ianto was in the process of drawing his own weapon, another alien turned up, coming at Tosh from the other side. Assessing the situation quickly, Ianto cursed under his breath since he couldn't get a clean shot in without risking to hit Tosh. He sprinted forward. Within the blink of an eye, he had reached the alien, and crashed into it.

They both toppled to the ground. A shot fell that rang in Ianto's ears. Tosh must have shot the other alien since his one was still alive and kicking, and trying to chew on him. 

He cried out as white-hot pain suddenly lashed through his right arm as the alien sank its teeth into his flesh, and for a moment, his resistance went lax in shock.

Another sudden shot rang through the air, making Ianto flinch violently, and then, the heavy body of the alien crashed onto him. He grunted as the dead weight squashed him, but only a second later, it was lifted from him, and Jack was at his side.

“You idiot!” the Captain seethed while his shaking hands ran all over Ianto's body to check if he was all right. “What did you think you were doing?!”

Groaning, Ianto sat up, and cradled his bleeding arm tightly to his body. “You needed me,” he pressed through gritted teeth.

“Stupid Tea Boy.” Owen's biting tirade preceded his arrival, even drowning out Jack's colourful swearing, before the doctor shoved Jack out of the way, and yanked Ianto's arm towards him with surprising gentleness. 

Stubbornly, Ianto refused to show how much pain he was in while Owen treated his arm, and equally as stubbornly refused to answer any questions Jack had or react to his furious glare.

After Owen had patched up his arm, the doctor and Jack pulled Ianto to his feet, and between the two of them, they supported Ianto on his way out of the building. 

Obviously, the alien threat was dealt with since none of the others seemed in a hurry any more. 

Outside the building, a contrite Gwen awaited them, wringing her hands when she saw that Ianto was hurt. 

She started storming towards him, but stopped herself when her colleagues' glares met her full force. 

“Back to the Hub. Now,” Jack pressed out while gently helping Ianto into the back of the SUV. He reached into Ianto's pocket to draw out his car keys which he threw towards Gwen. “You take his car back to the Hub,” Jack instructed without looking at her. Meekly, she nodded, and with a mumbled apology, hurried over to Ianto's car. The others piled into the SUV with Tosh and Ianto in the back. 

Halfway to the Hub, Tosh tentatively took Ianto's good hand, and squeezed it.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Ianto squeezed back, and the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. He nodded jerkily, and with that, the topic was closed, none of them wanting to make a big deal out of what had happened since neither Tosh nor Ianto were overly prone to emotional outbursts. That was probably the reason why Jack wasn't sitting in the back, fussing over Ianto; he knew how utterly the younger man detested being the centre of attention. And Ianto was grateful that Jack remembered that.

The rest of the drive, Ianto stared out the window moodily. 

He was peeved at Gwen about the whole situation, but was much too polite to let it show, and he knew he wouldn't even say something when he would have to face her in a few minutes. In fact, he couldn't even lay the blame solely on her since it had been his decision to come to the retrieval site in his still weakened and thus unconcentrated state. But, he shuddered when he thought about the possible outcome for Tosh if he hadn't been there...

No. He didn't regret his actions even if he had become hurt in the process.

 

Back at the Hub, Owen immediately whisked him away to the autopsy bay to treat his arm properly. 

Over the doctor's grumbling to which he didn't give any answers, he heard muffled shouting from upstairs a few minutes later – obviously, Gwen had returned as well, and Jack was reprimanding her for being late again, and letting her team mates down.

If Ianto was truthful, he didn't even feel sorry that she was in trouble now. His arm was hurting too much for that, and Owen's pain meds were just kicking in.

After he went upstairs again with the strict order from Owen to take it easy, no shenanigans with the Captain in the next few days, and after Gwen stormed past him in a strop, he looked in the direction of Jack's office, and met the older man's eyes. Jack gave a sharp jerk with his chin, indicating it was his turn next.

Sighing, Ianto went into Jack's office, closing the door. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, Jack was in his face.

“What were you thinking?!” he shouted, but the fact that he drew Ianto into a desperate embrace belied the fury in his voice. 

Luckily, Ianto didn't feel much at the moment thanks to Owen's painkillers. Otherwise, it would have been incredibly painful the way Jack had him crushed to his chest with his hurt arm squished between them, but that way, he simply returned Jack's hug, and let him rant his worry.

“Never do that to me again,” Jack pleaded sharply, his voice taking on a distraught note, his crushing embrace becoming gentler. 

“It's all right,” Ianto mumbled, and kissed the back of Jack's neck while still being surrounded by Jack's arms. He didn't promise to never put himself in danger again since, in their line of work, it would be a promise he would never be able to keep. And he refused to be treated any differently only because he was Jack's... whatever. He was a field agent like everybody else. But leaving that aside, he tried to convey reassurance and calmness to Jack, who, in the privacy of his office could show Ianto how distraught he really was about what had happened. 

They took a few more moments for themselves, simply basking in each other's closeness before they let go of each other, and Ianto left Jack's office with the promise of getting him a coffee, Jack's protests be damned (how well working the coffee machine one-handed would go remained to be seen, but under no circumstances would he let any of the others touch his coffee maker).

While Ianto struggled with the coffee machine but was too proud to ask for any kind of help (how vexing that it had to be his strong hand that had become injured!), Gwen suddenly crept up onto him.

She remained standing behind him for a few uncomfortably silent seconds while she watched him.

“You need some help, pet?” she eventually asked, clearly feeling uneasy.

“No, thanks, I'm done,” he replied, relieved that he really had managed without any major incidents like dousing himself with scalding water or something. At least Ianto could pride himself that his coffee being made with only one hand was still better than what some of the others tried to concoct with both hands.

Calmly, he ignored Gwen, and instead continued preparing the others' afternoon coffee. 

Gwen cleared her throat.

“Ianto... listen...” 

He could imagine her wringing her hands behind his back.

“I... I'm so sorry that you got hurt because I wasn't there...” she began, a rueful note colouring her voice.

“It's all right,” he wanted to say, but that would be a lie. It wasn't all right, and it wasn't right to tell her that only so she felt better. Deep in thought, Ianto put Jack's mug down before him.

“Gwen... I don't hold it against you. I could have been hurt regardless if you'd have been there or not...”

“But you wouldn't even have been there if I had been on time!” she argued. “You would have been at home, recuperating.”

Ianto sighed, her arguing already too much for him. “Yes,” he conceded. “But it could have happened any other work day as well.” Now, he did turn around to look her in the eye. “Gwen, I'm just disappointed in you. I know Jack told you not to let it slide with Rhys, and I respect that. And once is okay, but you don't only have a duty towards Rhys but to us as well. We have to rely on each other in the field, and since you still do what you want every time as if the rules don't apply to you...” He pressed his lips together. That had already been more than he'd wanted to say, so he simply let the matter drop, and turned back to his coffee.

“I'm really sorry,” Gwen tried again, and he waved her away. 

“I'm fine. Really. Let's forget about it.” He picked up the tray, balancing it precariously on his bandaged forearm, and weaselled past her to deliver the others' coffee, but, as usual, she was persistent, and followed him like a bulldog that had locked its jaws into his heels. 

“Gwen, just let it go already, okay!” he suddenly snapped, the coffee mugs rattling on the tray as he stopped abruptly to spin around to her. He hadn't wanted to snap at her, really, but by now, he had told her for the fourth time that it was okay, he was fine, but she only kept on apologizing.

For a split-second, she stared at him, taken aback, but then she nodded, and smiled at him overly cheerful before calmly accepting her mug of coffee, and returning to her work station. 

Suppressing a groan, Ianto served the rest of the coffee. The working atmosphere around here would be so much fun in the next few days...

 

Although being pampered by Jack had felt incredibly good yesterday, Ianto now refused to let this treatment continue. He had been hurt in the line of duty today, and that's the end of it. He would survive, so, after delivering his Captain's coffee, and earning a reproachful look from said Captain, he forbade Jack to send him home or any other such nonsense. He could work just fine with only one arm, thank you very much. 

Okay. Maybe not very efficiently, but he managed.

Not the artefact's fault if he couldn't handle it properly with one hand, but he stubbornly tried nonetheless. 

But after the third time trying to properly pack away the intergalactic hair dryer into an archive box, even Ianto Jones had to admit defeat.

“I could use a hand,” Ianto called out without taking his eyes from his task at one of the work spaces in the Hub, hoping that anyone heard him – or cared. At least labelling could be done one-handedly, even if his writing was a little less neat than usual since he had to write with his weaker hand. 

He froze as very familiar hands suddenly suggestively rubbed his bottom, and he rolled his eyes. “Not there.”

“Pity,” Jack mumbled in his ear. At least, he took his hands away, but instead pressed rather close to Ianto from behind – all in the pretence to get a better look over Ianto's shoulder, of course.

“Ev'rything okay?”

“Yeah,” Ianto answered by force of habit. “What I need is  _ actually _ someone giving me a hand, and not a boss who works me so hard.” 

Jack shivered at the deceptively calm gaze Ianto threw him over his shoulder, his eyes full of mirth and suggestive heat though.

“Go a little easy on me,” Ianto bade, and lowered his lashes bashfully.

Jack proudly puffed up his chest. “You bet I'll go easy on you. I'll manage for you all of the tasks this hand normally does.” 

Ianto could only answer the lascivious grin with an impassive face which stayed Jack's once more wandering hands diving into not very work-appropriate regions of Ianto's body.

“Ah, then you want to write your reports by yourself as well?”

The grin froze on Jack's face, but stayed charming nonetheless. “Well, let's not overdo it.”

Ianto grunted at that with a roll of his eyes, and turned back to his task.

At least Jack took him seriously now, and started helping him packing up the artefact. 

 

He was so glad when he came home that evening. The Rift was suspiciously calm this eve, giving him the chance to leave at a civilised hour, but he suspected that the others had kept some readings from him which they would only follow up on when he was out of the Hub and save at home. 

And for once, he was actually okay with that. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but Ianto was surprisingly tired. He was still sick after all, and now his arm was immobilised. At least it didn't hurt thanks to industrial strength painkillers. 

It got on his nerves though, not being able to fully function like he was used to. But in a few days' time, he'd surely be his old, effective self again.

 

Two days later, Ianto's mood had hit the bottom, transforming him from his normal politely sarcastic into permanently grouchy sarcastic. 

His cold was very slow to abate, his arm still hindered him, and to top it off, everybody had somehow started behaving annoying and chipper. Because: in three days, Christmas was upon them with all its nauseating cheer. Seriously, if he had to listen to Gwen's Christmas plans for one more time, he couldn't guarantee for anything. Unfortunately, she seemed to have infected Tosh with Christmas cheer as well because their normally so reserved computer tech was as giddy as Gwen, even helping Gwen to decorate the Hub with fir sprigs and fairy lights! 

Not only that, his sister grated on his nerves as well as she tried to needle him into coming over to dinner for Boxing Day. No way, thank you. His life was complicated enough without any family dramas or insults from his brother-in-law.

At least Owen was dependable; he behaved like the Grinch (more so than the other 364 days of the year, mind you), although this year, Ianto gave him a run for his money.

But if Ianto had to be really, really truthful with himself (which was incredibly hard since he so liked his denial), the reason for his bad mood weren't the others, his sister, or even his injury. 

It was Jack.

Although Ianto actually tried to tell himself that he couldn't stand Christmas since his memories of Christmases past with his family weren't that great, and the only ones he cherished were the two he'd spent with Lisa – which was way too depressing and painful to think about now –, he wouldn't have had anything against Christmas if he could spend it with Jack. He wished they would do something normal, just the two of them, just because it was Christmas. Just like a normal cou... human beings. He'd really like to go out with Jack, have some fancy dinner, maybe visit one of those shows or concerts the Millennium Centre hosted, silly, kitschy things like musicals of A Christmas Carol or ballets. People went to see The Nutcracker or Swan Lake at Christmas, right? He wasn't even into ballet or musicals, but somehow, it sounded nice and normal, and in the days leading up to Christmas, he wished nothing more than to see something like this with Jack. In fact, his wish got stronger and more desperate, the nearer Christmas drew. It was so ridiculous.

And although Jack had shown amazing care and perceptiveness while Ianto had been so sick, he now seemed oblivious to the younger man's wishes. Spending Christmas together had never been on the table in the first place after all. Jack hadn't breathed even one word of his plans, and that these plans maybe included Ianto Jones. Granted, Ianto could have been the one to let some hints drop or outright ask, but he didn't know how to broach the subject. After all, spending Christmas with Jack would imply too much, wouldn't it. You spend Christmas with your family. Jack was his friend, yes, his boss, and his lover, but they weren't family. As a team, sure, but apart from that, the two of them weren't a family in the way that Ianto would wish for them to be deep down in his well hidden fantasies. They weren't even a real couple. 

No. 

Christmas held way too many emotional implications and obstacles which simply wasn't them with their unorthodox... whatever.

So, alone it probably was. Promised to become a marvellous Christmas.

 

He was close to a bursting point when Gwen asked him for his plans for Boxing Day the day after tomorrow. 

“I'm going to my sister's,” he blurted out before he could think too closely about it. “Maybe even tomorrow evening already. Haven't seen them in a while. Lots of catching up to do.” That should shut them up, and not ask stupid questions if he was spending Christmas with Jack. Since he was not, he wouldn't have been able to stand their barely veiled pity disguised as compassion – he knew the difference – or Owen's open disgust of him how pathetic he was pining after Jack so much and still ending up alone on Christmas while the great Captain was out doing whatever, shagging the night away or brooding on a rooftop. No. He had some self-respect left, crippled as it was. Visiting his sister was a perfectly justified excuse not to spend Christmas with the man you regularly had sex with without anyone being entitled to question his motives. 

“You do?”

Startled, Ianto looked up into Jack's slightly baffled face which quickly turned into a frown. 

“You didn't say.”

All of a sudden, Ianto bristled. “I'm not obligated to tell you anything, you didn't tell me about your plans either!” But he didn't say that. Instead, he took a deep breath, and stood up stiffly. 

“I'm considering it, yeah,” he replied a little testily, even if it wasn't true. “She's my family, is she not.” Unlike you, but he didn't add that last part either.

He didn't look at Jack when he started tidying up the place a bit with as much dignity as he could muster. He literally felt Jack's gaze boring into his back like a physical being.

“And you, Jack?” Gwen asked much too loud and cheerful – so, the other's had picked up on the strained mood between him and Jack that had suddenly manifested. Great. “Do you have any plans?”

Jack didn't answer for a few further seconds, but then he made a non-committal noise. “I'm not a huge fan of Christmas,” he replied slightly haughty. “Always something bad happens. So, it's probably work. Somebody has to keep an eye on potential Apocalypses springing up.”

Ianto didn't look, but he imagined Jack winking cheekily at the others. He probably would have smacked him for it had he looked at him right that second, and in the next moment asked, begged even, if he could spend the evening with Jack manning the Rift. He didn't care if they didn't go out, and had to work instead, he just wanted to spend the evening with Jack. 

Not really caring about the rest of the conversation, not wanting to hear maybe even Gwen inviting Jack along for Christmas or something, Ianto slunk away in the direction of the Archives for some peace and quiet.

 

His peace and quiet didn't last for long. He felt Jack's presence before the Captain announced himself by clearing his throat uncomfortably. 

“Something you need, Sir?” Ianto asked without looking up from the form he was pretending to fill out.

“Yeah,” Jack answered, unobtrusively sauntering into the small office Ianto had installed for himself down here, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I need you to look up some project I worked on a while back.”

“A while back being?”

“Oh, well, maybe fifty years ago.”

Ianto froze. Fifty years ago. That was fifty years during which Jack had time to add to the mess he called Archives, piling layer upon layer of artefacts and documents on current projects, never trying to keep order. Great. 

He finally looked up when Jack put a hastily scribbled piece of paper in front of him with some notes on it. He smiled at Jack overly polite. “This will take a while, Sir.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Hm...”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“Let me do my work. I'll bring your stuff upstairs as soon as I've found it.” So, probably next year or something.

“Oh, sure. Okay.” Jack smiled at him a little strained, and suddenly made himself scarce.

As soon as the Captain was gone, the tension that had held up Ianto's body bled out of him like the air from a flabby balloon. Sighing heavily, he buried his face in his hands, and started holding an angry inner dialogue with himself why he, coward that he apparently was, simply hadn't told Jack what he wanted, all objections be damned.

 

“Merry Christmas!” Gwen called while bunching herself up in her coat. “See you all in a few days.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” Ianto mumbled without any chance of Gwen hearing him. Not soon after, Tosh and Owen left as well. Ianto had no idea what their respective plans were since he had fled that conversation yesterday. 

Now, it was only him and Jack left. 

The mood between them had remained tense since yesterday, and Ianto wasn't inclined to clear things between them only because it was bloody Christmas. 

“You out of here?” Jack asked as he suddenly materialised behind Ianto who refused to flinch at the Captain's stealthy appearance. 

“Yep. My boss gave us two days off, you know.” He tried for humour, but they both realised it fell flat. Nonetheless, that didn't stop Jack from responding in kind, somehow trying to salvage what they had.

“Oh really,” he joked lamely. “That's nice of him.”

“Yeah.” Ianto nodded. “Unless...” In for a penny... “Unless you need some help around here.”

Jack laughed generously, but it came out rather haughty and patronising. “Ah, no, it's okay. You can go be with your family. They're probably waiting already.” 

Ianto sucked in a deep breath at Jack's careless dismissal, and to his horror, he felt his eyes prickling with tears which he furiously blinked away. He was so mad at himself that he let all of this get to him, that he had suddenly become so sentimental that it almost physically hurt him not to spend the holidays with Jack. Dear God, it was only Christmas, a day just like every other shitty day of the year. He'd never understood why people made such a big deal out of it when most didn't even believe in the religious background it sprang from, so why was the prospect of spending it alone affecting him so much now?! He didn't need Jack. He was fine on his own!

Oh God, he sounded like Owen, he realised for the first time in days. He wasn't really that negative and Grinch-y, was he? 

And it wasn't as if he didn't have options, he didn't have to spend Christmas alone. He had his sister and her family... but, no, definitely not. Even now, the thought still didn't become more appealing. But he could maybe visit his local. Some of the regulars there had become something like friends, and, although relative strangers, they sometimes seemed to understand him better than his family. But no to that either. He wasn't in the mood for festive cheer, and didn't want to ruin other peoples' Christmas with his grouching. 

He would just head home, get some cleaning done, and bask in his self-pity. Yes, that was a suitable plan for how he felt right now.

He blinked himself back into reality, once more tears prickling threateningly in the corners of his eyes, and, as impassively as he could, he looked up at Jack who was probably waiting for some kind of witty reply. 

Looking into the other man's clear blue eyes suddenly hit home what he was missing out on, why he wanted to spend Christmas, hell, every day of his life with Jack. He needed him so much it hurt, his chest constricting with desperate yearning, making it difficult to breathe. 

He needed to get out of here. Now. If he stayed for one more second, he would abandon all dignity he had still left, and beg Jack to let him stay. But he couldn't do that. He didn't want to appear clingy or needy to Jack. They weren't in love after all, just...

Taking a shuddering breath, Ianto gave Jack a brisk nod, and turned around, storming in the direction of the cog-wheel door.

Ianto hadn't come very far until Jack's strong, warm hand suddenly closed around his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks. The Captain hurried around him until he came to a stand still before Ianto to study him closely. Trying to evade Jack's scrutinising gaze wasn't of much use, Jack had already seen his barely concealed tears. To his horror, the older man reached up, and gently brushed a stray tear away that had managed to slide halfway down Ianto's cheek.

Jack smiled sadly in sudden realisation. “I'm such an idiot,” he whispered, but then, he fondly shook his head, and reached up his other hand to cup Ianto's face. “But you are as well,” he informed him imploringly.

“Oh thanks,” Ianto let out a choked, self-deprecating laugh.

“Why didn't you tell me that you want us to spend Christmas together?” Jack asked gently.

“I don't have the right,” Ianto mumbled, still evading Jack's eyes.

“You have every right, Ianto.” Jack frowned. “Why do you think you don't?”

He shrugged awkwardly. “We're not...” He helplessly gestured between them.

Jack nodded, his lips pressed tightly together. “But that doesn't mean that I don't care about you. Ianto.” Imploringly, he grasped Ianto's shoulders tightly. “You're not simply my part-time shag, no matter what Owen says. And don't look at me like that, I know he said that, the little shit. But... what I want to say is...” Jack sighed, and took a deep, steeling breath before he looked Ianto deeply in the eye. “You're entitled to happiness. And you shouldn't have to suffer only because we're both too stupid and too cowardly to talk about what we want.”

“I don't want to presume...” Ianto automatically tried to assure, but Jack shushed him by placing two fingers against his lips.

“I want you to. Really.”

Searching Jack's earnest, contrite gaze, Ianto slowly realised that all the days he had been miserable lately were for the most part his own fault. If he had been more confident to outright tell Jack what he wanted, then...

“So...” He shyly averted his eyes. “Does that mean... I don't have to spend Christmas with my sister, and instead...” He swallowed heavily, and looked up again, searching Jack's eyes hopefully. “...may spend it with you?”

The fond smile Jack gifted him with suddenly made the heavy band of worry, sadness, and gloom that had held his heart in a constricting grip for the last few days crumble away, and he could breath easier again. 

“And...” Jack slowly entwined their hands, mindful of his still healing right arm, and gently pulled Ianto towards the exit. “I, for myself, indeed presumed, and had something arranged.”

Questioningly, Ianto cocked his head. 

“You know.” Jack shrugged. “Dinner, and I've got tickets for this Nutcracker show they're doing. I was told it's pretty good.”

Ianto burst out in a mad laugh while at the same time staring at Jack in astonishment. What were the odds that Jack choose exactly what he had been dreaming about?!

“How did you...”

Jack quirked a smile. “There are times, seldom as they are, when I don't think with my dick but... with my heart...”

“That's awful,” Ianto giggled, his voice sounding a little stifled since he was busily suppressing his tears, now tears of joy though. He tried to brush away the moisture unobtrusively, but Jack beat him to it. He shuddered under Jack's gentle touch. 

“And ballet's not even my cup of tea,” he burst out in another laugh, taking in shuddering breaths to compose himself again.

Jack shrugged, trying to suppress a smile. “Mine neither, but I thought it would be something that people do. Something normal.” He looked questioningly at Ianto, becoming serious again, almost worried. “We don't have to. I just thought...”

He immediately was lost for words, as Ianto suddenly crushed his lips to Jack's in a brief but intense kiss.

“It's perfect, Jack,” Ianto mumbled against his lips, suddenly realising that not only had  _ his _ feelings been hurt, but that Jack was hurt and disappointed as well when Ianto had so carelessly announced that he wanted to spend Christmas with his sister when all Jack had wanted was to surprise him. All the trouble he had gone to for him... It still took Ianto's breath away. “Thank you. Just what I wished for.”

He felt Jack smile radiantly against his mouth, making him warm all over, and taking the guilt from him that he had hurt Jack in turn. “You're welcome. But now, let's hurry. Dinner reservation's waiting.”

Ridiculously happy, Ianto nodded, and allowed Jack to drag him out of the Hub.

 

Although ballet really wasn't his thing, the show following a surreally romantic dinner had been beautiful. Enchanting even, and Ianto felt as if walking on clouds when they left the Millennium Centre. 

They lingered for a while at the entrance while all the other people streamed past them on their way home. But the two men weren't in a hurry. If they decided against spending the night at Ianto's flat, they only had to go a few steps until they reached the invisible lift that would carry them down into the Hub. At this point, Ianto really didn't care where they spend the night.

The Plass became deserted and quiet until they were the only two people left in sight. It was a peaceful and serene atmosphere with only the two of them on the Plass that was lit with glittering fairy lights all around. 

“All is calm, all is bright,” Jack suddenly crooned into Ianto's ear, and wrapped his arms around Ianto while pressing himself tightly against Ianto's back. 

The younger man had to laugh softly at that despite the intimate shudder that spread through his whole body at Jack's proximity.

Still chuckling, he wriggled out of Jack's embrace, and descended the steps of the Millennium Centre, stepping onto the indeed calm and deserted Plass.

“Oh look!” Jack suddenly cried, jumping down the steps in delight, and joyously pointed upwards like a little boy. “It's starting to snow!”

And indeed, fat white snow flakes sailed from the ink-black sky, and within only a few minutes, Cardiff had been blanketed in a fine layer of brilliant white. They stopped again, and both stared into the sky, not really caring that by some point, the snow would drench them to the bones. It was kinda peaceful just standing here, and watching the snow fall. 

Ianto was so relaxed that he didn't even have his suspicions that maybe, since it was Christmas, and they were Torchwood, the snow was some kind of malicious alien force that wanted to absorb them all or something like that. No. For once, he simply enjoyed this small miracle of nature. Together with Jack. That was probably the best thing about this night.

Suddenly, he startled, as warm lips pressed against his. But as soon as they had touched his lips, as soon they were gone again.

Blinking in surprise, he looked questioningly at Jack. The Captain simply smiled at him.

“There was a snowflake on your lip.”

After a few seconds, Jack leaned in again to kiss Ianto once more.

“Another one.”

“Jack, if you keep this up, we'll be out here a long time because the snow gets worse.” Ianto pointed at the velvety black sky that released countless snowflakes that swirled around the two men merrily, glittering in the lights on the Plass.

“Then I'll simply have to keep on kissing you.”

Fondly, Ianto rolled his eyes, but eagerly met Jack's warm lips as the Captain proceeded to make good on his promise.

“Merry Christmas, Ianto,” Jack whispered against his lips.

“Merry Christmas, Jack,” Ianto replied before a hot mouth descended onto his again, and strong arms came up around him to hold him tight in the middle of Roald Dahl Plass.

** End and Merry Christmas  **

 

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe this turned out more moody than intended, but oh well, there is a happy ending^^  
> This was inspired by Just Another Night by gmariam. I really loved the story, and can only recommend it!  
> Hope you enjoyed, and Merry Christmas.


End file.
